The second time around HL xover
by LillianLuthor
Summary: Buffy died in the final battle with Glory; ten years after, this is how things are
1. Default Chapter

Title: The second time around

Fandom: x-over BTVS/Ats/HL

Pairing: if you must know... à Spike/Xander, Methos/Duncan, Willow/Tara, Giles/Anya, Cordi/Wes  
Rating: PG, pre-slash  
Author: Lillian Luthor  
E-mail: isso_k@yahoo.com  
Feedback: sure, I'm a bitch for it... I'll even settle for flames if you have nothing good to say  
Archive: if you care enough to want it, you have it. just let me know, or whatever... 

Disclaimer: they're not mine, nothing this pretty has ever been mine... I'm just borrowing, in an amateur and unprofitable kind of way.

Chapter I

It's been ten years. Ten soddin' years since we buried her. Ten years since we sent the bint with Oz to LA, to live with her father. Ten years since that idiotic Xander was ran over by some even dumber bitch and killed instantly –what a travesty, six years battling the forces of evil to be killed by a reckless driver. It's been nine years since the slayer –the rogue slayer, she used to be- was taken out of jail and sent back to Sunnydale by the Council. It's been almost eight years since the watcher took it back to England, leaving the slayer to take care of her very capable self, and it's been that long since he and demon-girl got hitched. 

It's been ten years since the last bit of vampire pride I had died, and ten years I have spent helping the residue of the once Scooby Gang to fight the forces of darkness I had once been proud to be part of. I don't really know how long it has been since I stopped grieving over Buffy, and realized I wasn't staying to honor her memory, but because I wanted to. _I wanted to save the world_. 'Ironic much?', she would have said. 

Ten years in this hellhole of a town, killing my kind, thinking of her and how she never could have loved me. But somewhere along the way it stopped mattering. When I think of her now, she's just another blurry face in a crowd of long forgotten individuals. It started with her mouth; one night I woke up realizing I couldn't quite remember the shape of her mouth as she spoke, as she pouted. Then was he nose, her hair, her eyes... the way she moved when she fought, the way she talked to me like I was an inferior being, and then at times like she really cared. Then one day, she was gone, just a memory; a dear one, that I will always hold on to, but no more than that. 

And then I did it all over again, fell for the slayer, but this time it lacked the pain I remembered from the first time around. It didn't hurt when I told her how I felt, it didn't hurt while we were together, and it doesn't hurt now, almost a year since we decided to call it a quits. Funny that, that I spent four years of my unlife living with the slayer, like bloody husband and wife, and then when it was over, when we started pulling apart, we became the best of friends. We still are best friends, actually, and we still live together, only with different bedrooms.

"What the fuck are you brooding about, Spike?" she breaks through my concentration, pretty in a white apron and a two-piece swimsuit while she tries unsuccessfully to cook dinner. Somehow, she always knows when I'm broody... but I can always pretend I'm not.

"Not brooding, pet. Just thinkin'... wondering what the witches have to tell us that is so important to require a dinner appointment" 

"I don't know" she shrugs "You should have asked, Spike... you were at the Magic Box all day with Tara"

"I would have, but she was all cranky because I was late for work, _again_... hope the news is not that I'm fired"

"You don't fire people over dinner, Spike" she chuckles, throwing a napkin at my face

Yeah, I know, who would have thought. Me, working for the witches at the Magic Box. Damn the watcher that left the shop to them and not me, but then again it is only logical that he cared to provide for their future rather than mine. I get paid –generously, so I don't complain. It paid Willow through medical school, and it sustains them both in a pretty house as well as Faith and I in a small but comfortable apartment.

"Are you going to get that, or do I have to leave these to burn?" she says, waving a spatula in the direction of the door

"Comin'!" I yell at the door, the incessant knocking getting to my nerves. When I open, I sigh in relief to find Willow and Tara with wide smiles and a bottle of champagne. _Alright, not fired then... unless they're really happy to get rid of me..._

"Hi Spike! We have great news!" Willow says as she lets herself in, throwing her coat on the couch and heading directly to the refrigerator to put the bottle away "Do we tell them now, or wait until after dinner?" she consults Tara, who has taken a minute to say 'hi' properly. 

"Don't be so sure there _will_ be dinner" I tell her as I approach Faith and notice the unhealthy color her cooking has gained "Maybe I should go pick something up..." I suggest

"Come on Spike, don't be mean, I'm sure it's delicious..." Willow says cheerfully, walking near us with spoon in hand and stealing a taste of what the slayer is trying to make. Her face goes all pale, then all red, then she swallows as tears start welling up in her eyes.

"Go get some pizzas" Faith sighs, throwing the frying pan in the kitchen sink. I was already on my way to the door.

It's funny how much the slayer has changed, and yet hasn't. She's calmer now, more mature. She loves it here in our apartment, and sometimes not even I recognize her when she goes ballistic over cigarette butts on the floor, or that plant I keep forgetting to water. She still goes dancing, specially now that we're no longer a couple, but sometimes she prefers to stay home and watch TV with me, have a couple of beers and talk about our lives. Normal stuff. 

She specially loves it when I bring Clem and some of the guys over, and we play poker until sunrise. She even became close to that Tzg'erh demon chit from next door, Patty I think it's her name, and I've caught them more than once whispering about cute guys and designer clothes. She's still lethal, make no mistakes, and in honor of the truth I think she's better than any slayer before her ever was. It shows, been that she's almost thirty already and still growing strong. Sometimes I fear something may happen to her any day, and sometimes I'm certain she will live to be a hundred.

Getting a few pizzas is not a hard task, since we live on top of the shop, so I can make it back before Willow's head blows up from excitement. When I open the door to my apartment I find the frighteningly happy Willow forcing a glass of champagne into my hand while she all but throws the pizzas on the table. 

"Okay, I waited long enough..." she breathes deeply, closing her eyes to calm herself, and then opens them up suddenly and snaps "Dawn is pregnant!"

I can barely hear Faith asking if I'm alright before I lose consciousness.

I wake up to annoying girly chatter, and I realize I'm lying on the couch, my head resting on Faith's lap. Ten years ago, I would have ripped their hearts out, but now I really feel like they have ripped mine. _The bint is pregnant?_. 

Of course I knew she and Oz had been dating since she turned eighteen, and they have been living together for three years now, but I could have never seen this one coming. Bloody hell, she's only twenty-four!

"Hun, you do realize Dawn is a big girl, don't you?" Faith laughs. _Did I say that aloud?_

"You should be happy Spike, she was all thrilled about it" Willow insists, refilling her glass "And you know your approval is very important to her..."

"Oz was very excited too, you should have heard him..." Tara adds, smiling gleefully

I am about to say 'What the hell...' when Faith passes me a glass of champagne

"Angel called while you were out, he says you can stay at the hotel if you want to go visit her for a couple of days..." she informs me "Since the hellmouth is quiet of late, I think you should go"

Yeah, that's more news; the poof and I made peace long ago, a few years after Buffy's passing, and we've been in rather good terms ever since. We still can't stand each other much, and we end up fighting every time we meet, but we never take it to heart. You'll never catch me saying this aloud, but it's good to have my Grandsire back. In a way. 

So I go, what else can I do? I have been keeping tabs on the bint since we sent her to her dad's. I bought her her first pair of really high heeled shoes, I took her to her first punk concert, I got her into dying her hair purple to match Oz's, I paid for her first tattoo and managed her dad's wrath for each of those things. I was the first to know when she and Oz moved in together, and again talked her dad into taking it easy. Seemed a good idea at the time, how could I have known he was going to knock her up? But then again I know it has to be something they planned, because I'm very sure I put her on the pill when she turned sixteen. _Just in case_.

So here I am, at the Hyperion, hands full of presents the girls sent for Dawnie and the baby. _The baby_. I really have to see her before I start thinking too much about it, or I'm going to lose my mind. Guess I'll have to keep myself busy pissing the poof off until tomorrow. Speaking of which...

"Spike" he greets me with an honest smile, giving me a friendly hug before volunteering to help me carry the stuff inside the hotel. As I enter I am likewise hugged by Cordelia, who looks astonishing as always in a tailored suit.

"I can't believe she got pregnant before I did!" she says as a hello, turning to shoot Wesley a jokingly poisonous look "I got pregnant by a demon once, but my husband? Tsk tsk..."

"I am trying, dear!" the rogue watcher replies laughingly, walking towards me for a warm British reception "Hello, Spike" he says as he gives me a pat on the shoulder "How is Faith doing?"

"She's fine, she sends her love" I tell them while I pass the rest of the presents for Angel to put away "She's sorry she couldn't come, but Will was concerned about some misplaced corpses in her morgue... probably some flesh eating demon, but Faith wanted to be there just in case" 

And this is us now, sitting together, having scotch and exchanging news of what is going on in Sunnydale and in Los Angeles. Buffy would go out of her mind if she could see us now, chattering the hours away. I hear from them that Giles and Anya –Mrs. Giles now- are invited over for Christmas, and since the hotel is big the invitation is extended to us, the Sunnydale gang. I choke on my drink when I hear the news that Anya is expecting too...

"I know!" Cordelia snaps as she hears the news retold "How old is Giles anyway? He's like sixty!" she exclaims in mocking annoyance, although it shows that she's both happy for their luck, and happy that she has Wesley. Still, it is quite obvious that the former cheerleader is baby-obsessed. 

I say my goodnights to Cordelia and Wesley as they retire for the night to their room, and I manage to receive a cheery hug and a friendly pat from the late-arriving Fred and Gunn before the poof and I go out into the streets. The idea is to kill something while we discuss the way the werewolf factor is going to play for Dawnie's baby, but we end up having some drinks in some quiet demon bar, just two anonymous vampires in the city of angels, talking about times long past. 

Eventually he decides to call it a night and head back to the hotel, but for some reason I don't want to leave.

I have my own honorary set of keys for the Hyperion, 'in case of emergency', so I wave him goodbye mockingly and get on a bus. I feel like going downtown, maybe clubbing, anything to keep my mind out of the protective-dad thoughts that the bint's pregnancy awakes in me. It's been too long since I've gone dancing, and I miss it.

Two hours before sunrise, and two beers after my last vestiges of sobriety, I exit the club. I had intended to pick up a girl, maybe two, but somehow I'm not in the mood. My mind is racing, thinking about all the possible ways I'm gonna tell Dawn how happy I am for her, and how proud I am of how well she's done. Then I see them, in a dark alley, sparks flying as the two humans engage in a bizarre sword fight. I haven't seen humans fighting with swords in a century, and somehow it catches my eye. I walk near, not sure if I should intervene, when suddenly I see one of the men's face.

__

Xander. It couldn't be him, he has been dead for almost a decade, but he looks so much like him. The hair is longer, the black turtleneck and the leather coat definitely not Xandersih, and the grace with which the man moves nothing like the awkward insecurity of the old Scooby. Yet, somewhere, he is enough like him to give me the goose-bumps. I stand there, watching mesmerized, until the Xander-looking man is thrown on his back with a disloyal kick, his sword flying from his hand onto the pavement. 

I don't know what possesses me, watching the other man with his sword above the unarmed man's head, but suddenly I'm over the treacherous victor, and before I can realize I have broken his neck. The chip malfunctioned about seven years ago, in case anyone wondered; at the time, it didn't make any difference anymore. So I stand there, looking at the dead man in awe, until a strong hand grabs my arm and pulls me outside the alley.

"We must get away from here" the Xander looking man says; his voice sounds like Xander, but the tone and the words are not him. He's self-confident, his words a command rather than a suggestion.

Once we reach a main street he releases the tight grip on my arm, and turns around with a grin as he pulls out of his pocket a set of keys, obviously for a car. Recognition flashes in his eyes for a second, but then it hits me that it is another kind of recognition;

"Well, not like me to thank a vampire for minding my business, but since you saved my neck I'll let it go" he offers, and before I can say anything in reply he opens the door to an expensive black Mercedes convertible and starts the engine.

I want to say something, to ask him something, but I can't seem to manage. I may be too drunk, or too shocked, or even too scared. He can't be Xander, and he _isn't_ Xander, but somewhere it feels like him. And I have just killed a man, first time in over a decade... 

"Xander" I whisper, but he is gone already. 


	2. 02

****

Chapter II

"Well, I told you that was going to stretch some day, but you were stubborn as a mule" I tell her jokingly, trying my best to come up with a good distraction before I start weeping tears of joy. I may be a good vampire now, but vampire still. Crying like a girl is not traditional vampire behavior. 

"I was eighteen Spike, I didn't even think of having babies back then!" she exclaims laughingly, petting her swollen tummy where the tattoo is already looking a little distorted. She looks so beautiful like this, all sweet with her long green hair and her kohl-painted eyes. A little over four months, and the pregnancy has already made her look all motherly cute.

I was so anxious to see her that I came to her place as soon as I woke up, a few hours after noon, not even caring about the obvious discomforts of going out during the day. The look on her face when she saw me was way worth the blanket-covered running from the car to her doorstep. The presents will have to wait, though, but I couldn't.

Oz was still in bed when I arrived, and was awakened by her cheerful little cries when she saw me. Then there were tears, hysterical laughing, and proud replies to all my thrilled questions. Even Oz, who emerged from the bedroom a while ago, looks strangely changed by this new development of their relationship; he talks more, smiles an awful lot, and spends half his waking hours caressing or kissing her. I wish Joyce could be here to see what a fine young woman her baby girl has grown up to be.

"So, uh, Spike, there was actually something I wanted to tell you..." she says when we finally stop laughing over my last attempt at self-diversion, and the suddenly nervous and hesitant look on her face gives me the shivers

"Is something wrong?" I ask concerned, a whole lot of terrible things that could or could have happened crowding my mind

"What? No!" she assures me, forcing a nervous chuckle which only confirms that she's dead nervous about whatever the hell it is she wants to tell me "It's just, you know, Oz and I have been thinking a lot... you know... what with the baby coming and all..." she starts babbling, Oz's arm taking a soothing position around her shoulders "...and well, I know it's kind of ironic actually... but I just, _we_ just thought it might be, you know, a good idea and all..."

"What? Spill out!" I demand, nervous myself after the rather prolonged rant

"We want you to be the baby's godfather!" Dawn exclaims rather loudly, rushing nervously through the words

"You what?" I ask, not believing my ears

"Well, you know, you're like, my best friend... you took so good care of me... and I just thought... you know, it's not like holy water has to touch _you_ in the ceremony... and plus, the living-forever thing is a bonus, you will always be there for the baby if something even happens to us... not that it will, but _if_... and, you know..."

__

She looks so cute when she babbles. So okay, there goes my last bit of vampire composure; this certainly _does_ justify the crying... not that I could help it. Me, Spike, the baby's godfather... the tears start dripping down my cheeks immediately.

"It's just... it's such a big responsibility..." I sigh, her glossy eyes making it hard for me to talk without sobbing, _what a wuss_ "Are you sure of this?" 

"We're sure, Spike" Oz softly interrupts her before she starts babbling again "Just one thing..." he says with a severe expression on his face "If it's a girl, don't hit on her when she turns eighteen..." 

And then the three of us start laughing.

I'm still digesting the information when I leave their home, a couple of hours after sunset, with the promise of returning in a few days with the presents and Cordelia, who insisted on tagging alone the next visit but was satisfied with sending her love by means of a greeting card this once. I wonder if she knew what they wanted to ask me, and decided to allow me some private time with them. I know they are having the same conversation with Willow as soon as she manages to come over, and I wonder if Red is going to feel the same way I feel now, because it sure feels great! Sometimes it plain shocks me how much I have come to _belong_ in this group, with these people I now call friends. _Family_.

So I arrive back at the hotel with a huge wide grin on my face, probably rather stupid looking, but I don't give a damn. I really can't wait to tease the Grandsire; it's not everyday that you get chosen over him, and a chance to push the man's buttons is a chance to push the man's buttons. And lucky me, here he comes...

"How's Dawn?" he asks as he comes to meet me outside of the building, probably alerted of my presence by the noise of my poor excuse for a car. Can't seem to get rid of the good ol' DeSotto.

"She's _very_ knocked up, sends her love..." I say casually, waiting for the perfect timing to slip a low punch "Says you can sit in the back at the christening, since _I_'ll be up front..." his expression is priceless now "..._holding the baby_!"

"Well... can't say that I'm not hurt that they didn't chose me..." he starts to say, broody mood on; but wait, now he has that sexy smirk on him "They promised me next... I'm way ahead of you, Spike" he chuckles, and now I want to punch him for real for screwing up my fun; _who died and made him resident fun-guy?_ "Come here, let's celebrate..." he says, and then I follow him in to find the whole hotel population in the lobby, holding glasses of champagne. _The conniving bastards_.

So we drink the champagne, then we order Chinese and open a few more bottles, and by ten o'clock I receive Faith's phone call congratulating me, with the witches background comments as a bonus. _Talk about conspiracy_. 

"Is there _anyone_ who didn't know?" I ask in mock outrage, actually focused on how sweet revenge to the witch will be when she realizes she has been set up as much as I have. _You laugh now, Red, you know what they say about the one who laughs the last..._

Then when they hang up we drink some more, I put up with some jokes on how many things could go wrong and the chances I get permanently injured by holy water exposure, and by midnight the couples start retiring to their rooms, leaving the poof and I alone with a bottle of scotch to make up for the lack of any more bubbles. A few more drinks, and he too goes up to his room, walking a little funny. _Ponce never had a head for alcohol_.

It is then, when I find myself alone in the empty lobby with the remnants of the celebration, that I start getting melancholic. Not my fault, you know. Slayer's right when she says Angel's is rubbing off on me; I really _do_ brood quite a bit lately, and this is definitely a brood-worthy time. I mean, think of it, the single most important fact of the bint's life, and neither Joyce nor Buffy are there. I'm sure they would have loved to see this, as she would love them to be there... And then there's the git... _Xander_.

I hardly thought about him at all for ten years, and probably wouldn't have if I had not met his doppelganger the night before. Even still, I had my mind too busy all day to think about him even now, not since I fell asleep last night. _Alright, passed out_. I came back to the hotel rather confused, and raided the grandsire's booze cabinet. 

The man had the git's face, the git's voice... yet he was not him. He was a man alright, probably deadly at that, and whatever the whole swords issue was all about, I'm positive the Xander-looking man would have done the exact same thing the other had tried, given the proper circumstances. Hard to reconcile the Zeppo with that self-confident, gorgeously dressed, exceptional fighter individual. Yet somewhere, it _felt_ like him.

So the hell with drinking myself to an alcoholic comma while thinking of it; I go out and head directly to the place where I saw the man the night before. After spending almost fifteen years in Sunnydale there's hardly _anything_ that could surprise me, and if there is something in that man that is Xander, I must know. Don't ask me why, I just _must_. 

But of course he is _not_ where I saw him the first time around, because seriously, _why_ would he be in a deserted alley two nights on a row? Weird enough he was there once, but then again who says he actually was? Ghosts are supposed to work like this, aren't they? Appear to you when less expected, act like nothing's abnormal about the situation, then disappear... in a black Mercedes convertible? Stranger things have happened...

I take it to the club where I was the night before, so I can get a couple of drinks and maybe see if anyone can give me some info on the man –if there was a man after all. I'm damn sober now in comparison to last night, and trust me, I'm not exactly fresh right now. I sit at the bar, waiting for the bartender to notice me, when movement to my right makes me turn around. And there he is, just out of nowhere.

"Got a light, fangs?" he asks in a casual tone, leaning against the bar with a cigarette in his mouth. I fumble with the lighter before I can light it for him, and he just smiles. _Damn!_ If he didn't remember me of Xander so much, I would seriously think he's hot. Okay, I admit it, he _is_ hot.

"Looking nervous tonight, fangs" he grins, taking the stool next to me and waving for the bartender, who immediately comes over "Two beers" he orders, and the man goes away to return promptly with the requested beverages, one of which is handed to me. 

"It's Spike" I point out, barely managing to disguise my shock at realizing he's real... whoever he is. 

"Gavin" he offers, giving me an appraising look that makes me feel exposed. For a moment he just stares, then he chuckles and turns to his beer, making no attempt at further conversation.

"Come here often?" I ask him after a while of silence, glad that I have been the bad-ass vampire for so long it hardly shows when I'm intimidated. And believe me, I am.

"Not really. Just looking for you..." he replies with a grin, turning to set knowing brown eyes on mine "So, are you going to ask?"

__

Looking for me? I can't decide whether to be flattered, scared, or plain confused. And what else is he saying? _Am I going to ask?_ Ask what? For a moment he looks so much like the git I positively freak out; but it can't be him, I saw him die. I went to his funeral, I comforted the girls when they couldn't make sense of any of it. Yet for a moment, it feels like it's actually him, pushing my buttons like he always had. _Is he doing just that? Pushing my buttons?_

"Ask what?" I question him, somehow keeping up the pretense of ease while deep down I'm choking with confusion

"Am I him?" he replies matter-of-factly, finishing his beer "Am I the one I remind you of?"

__

How does he know? Then again, the way the question is formulated implies that he isn't. And he couldn't be... I can't make up my mind whether it's just some guy having a good laugh at my expense, or it's actually Xander... having a good laugh at my expense. Worse thing is, I _wish_ it was him. So what can I do? I gotta ask...

"Are you him?" 

"Yeah, fangs... it's me" he says with a nasty little smile, and before I can say anything he stands up and walks away. 

You know me, I'm not the easily shocked kind of bloke, but the casually intoned revelation just catches me by surprise. So I just stay there, sitting like an imbecile, trying to make some sense of what I just heard. Then I realize no answers will come from sitting and drinking, so I finish my drink and rush out of the club. Imagine my surprise to find him still there, leaning comfortably against the side of his car. 

"Xander? Is that you?" I ask him, walking with quick steps towards him, thinking he might vanish just anytime 

"Yes" he grins, pulling a cigarette out of his coat pocket. I light it for him instantly, waiting for him to say something else, but he remains quiet, staring at me with an amused look on his eyes.

"It can't be you... I saw you die..." 

"Then maybe it isn't me..." he grins, abandoning his comfortable spot to walk towards the door of the vehicle "But wouldn't you just love to find out..." he says, getting into the car and starting the engine.

Of course I'm shocked, but not enough to miss the chance of figuring it out, so I throw myself on the escort seat without waiting for an actual invitation and, funny enough, he just drives off without even acknowledging my presence. 

For a brief time I just sit in silence, watching the calm expression on his face as he drives, and wondering if this man could possibly be Xander. _He says it's him, but then he says it might not be him..._ I ponder on the odds, make a mental list of likely reasons for this man to actually _be_ Xander, and wonder why in hell would he show himself to me if he is indeed whom he claims to be. Then the car comes to a halt, and I realize we are parked in a residential area. 

"Are you real?" I ask, knowing how stupid it probably sounds, but needing to do it all the same. Maybe it's just that I'm drunk, but it feels like the right thing to ask at the time.

"Was, when last I checked..." he offers playfully, his facial cast denoting he's having a wonderful time at my expense. So what the hell can I do? I draw my hand to touch his arm, the nearest thing at reach, and find it definitely corporeal. So I move my hand down to his own hand, the only unclothed part of him besides his face, and find it warm. Absolutely human. I am focusing on the way he smells, when he suddenly bursts into laughter.

"If you're going to feel me up, might as well wait until we're upstairs" 

I feel vaguely like I've been following him around forever, but all the same get into the elevator next to him. He's really staring to get on my nerve with all his inconsistent replies, and what the hell what that about me _feeling him up_?. Damn git! He would _know it_ if I were feeling him up. I am arriving to the conclusion that he must be really Xander to be so annoying, when I notice his formerly amused expression hardens as he seems to notice something on the loft which I, with all vampire senses, cannot feel. Then the elevator comes to a halt, and I am surprised to find he pulls a sword out of his coat and waves for me to stay where I am.

Of course I'm not one to stay behind, so I follow him into the loft and I'm rewarded with the chance to get a glimpse of his careful approach, almost predatory, as he moves in the darkness with his sword firmly held up. The television is on, and someone is shamelessly sitting there, watching a movie. Then a light goes on, and Xander puts his weapon down with an exasperated sigh.

"What the hell are you doing here?" he asks the strawberry-blond bloke, who remains relaxed on the couch without even bothering to turn around

"Gee, Gav, what's with the attitude..." the intruder complains "I'm watching a movie... grab yourself a beer and join me, it's about to get interesting..."

"You're offering me some of _my_ beer, while you watch _my_ TV in _my_ apartment?" Xander exclaims in disbelief "You're spending too much time with the old man... and how the hell did you get in here in the first place?"

"Never returned your key" the redhead replies matter-of-factly "Just got back in town and figured I needed a place to stay..." he offers, and then turns around and notices me "Although I think I may have to take the couch..." he grins

Then, when I'm beginning to feel like _I_ am the incorporeal one, Xander turns around and sees me, standing right behind him. What can I do? I smile innocently and shrug.

"So much for staying in the elevator" he sighs, pulling off his coat and heading out of the room

"So, you're like, together?" the redheaded stranger asks with curiosity, obviously losing interest in his movie as he eyes me appraisingly 

"No, we're not _together_..." Xander says with an annoyed tone as he reenters the room, and heads towards the kitchen to return with two bottles of beer, one of which is tossed in my direction "Just how many beers _did_ you have, Rich?" 

"You're right Gav, I've had one too many... maybe I should just leave you two alone and get in bed, okay?" he offers with a sheepish smile, promptly standing up and heading towards the other room. But Xander grabs his arm before he can walk past him, and gives him a threatening look

"You're _not_ sleeping in the bed, Rich... it's the couch or the street" 

"Spoilsports" the kid protests, disentangling himself from Xander's hold and giving him a playful slap in the ass before returning to the couch "Can I finish watching the movie, at least?" 

"Whatever..." Xander sighs, strolling towards the kitchen, seemingly oblivious to my presence. Of course who can blame him? Even I am kind of oblivious to my own presence, after the little scene I have just seen. And they said _I_ used to abuse Xander's hospitality? This Rich kid not only breaks into his loft, but also drinks his beer, makes complaints, tries to usurp his bed, and... _did he slap him in the ass?_

It doesn't seem like Xander is coming back this way, and the blonde is caught up in his movie and not paying any attention to me anymore, so I invite myself over to the kitchen. 

"Glad you could make it, loft's so enormous I thought you had gotten lost" he says ironically, pushing a stool in my direction with his foot "Now, where were we? Oh, yes. You were getting enthusiastic with your hands..."

"Are you really Xander?" I interrupt him, taking the stool he offered and pulling a fag out of my coat

"I think we covered that already" he sighs in annoyance; at least I'm not the only one getting pissed "I am Xander for all that matters, but I'm not really him anymore. I'm Gavin now, I told you that..."

"You do dress better, and obviously have learnt how to use your sword..." I concede, to which he only smirks in reply "But what I want to know, then, is how is it possible... gotta insist on the fact that I saw you die"

"I'm not dead, as it's plain for you to see. I am not a vampire, as I'm sure you've noticed" he says casually as he stands up to grab two more beers "I'm just a guy, kind of in the mood to catch up with old acquaintances. Of all people, I wouldn't have suspected I would get a scene from _you_, Spike"

"I'm not making a scene, git. I just want to know what you are" 

"I'm a systems engineer, Spike. I have a house, a car, a well-paid job and good friends" he says softly "You want to know how is it possible that am I alive? I don't know, I just am. You want to know why I never told anyone? I loved the girls, and Giles too, and I think about them even now... but I didn't really belong with them anymore, they didn't really need me. So I moved on, and here I am..."

"I know what you mean, and I won't tell anyone that I saw you if you don't want me to... but, why let me know it was you, if you wanted to keep yourself a secret?"

"I don't know... it kind of happened on its own, really" he confesses "I wasn't going to tell you, in all honesty. I just wanted to see you one more time, maybe get some info out of you on how everyone was doing... and then for some reason I felt this urge to tell you it was me. Just wanted to talk to someone who remembered the old me, a way to link down to all the things I left behind..." he sighs, and for a second I see in his eyes a flick of emotion that resembles weariness, but it is immediately displaced by an amused expression "I must be getting old and nostalgic"

I am about to come up with a witty reply, when for the second time in the night I see him growing unexplainably tense, and I follow his eyes to the elevator, which is going down and immediately starts back up. In the corner of my eye, I see the blonde turning towards it with a very similar wary expression, and the tension in the room is growing to a peak when suddenly the elevator door opens and a woman emerges from it. 

"Richie, what a surprise..." she addresses the blonde with a passing smile, then the boy turns back to his movie as if nothing is out of the ordinary and the woman –is that a skirt or a scarf?- heads directly towards us. 

I'm really starting to wonder who the hell are these people and why they keep showing up at the git's like it's a public place when she brushes past me and plants a soft kiss on Xander's mouth, then turns towards me with a well-practiced charming smile and stretches her hand.

"Amanda" she smiles seductively

"Spike" I concede, dismissing her hand and focusing on the wary look on Xander's face which is rather amusing

"So, Amanda... you _do_ realize it's rather late for a social call, don't you?" he asks, sounding sort of annoyed "And when did you arrive in town?" 

"Just tonight" she smiles sheepishly, turning once more towards Xander and putting her arms around him in an open attempt at seduction that would disgust me if I weren't so amused "I just figured, since Mac is all married and won't take me in... why not drop by at my old friend Bumper's..."

"You never mentioned _why_ you were in town..." he insists, and I find myself quite curious about what her comeback is going to be. _And, did she just call him Bumper?_

"Can't a girl just drop by to visit her friends?" she replies, batting her eyelashes "Anyway, since you're in such good company maybe I should just get a hotel room, come back in the morning," she concludes, suddenly releasing Xander and planting another kiss on his lips before heading towards the elevator "Maybe you can tag along, Ryan. I hear they have big screen TVs in this hotel downtown..."

"I'm cool" the kid answers absently, obviously focused on his movie, until the woman slaps him across the head in a rather urgent gesture; then the blonde sighs and stand up to leave as well "Later, guys..." he shrugs, grabbing his coat with ridiculous care and following the woman into the lift. 

"What _was_ that?" I chuckle as soon as the elevator starts moving, trying to decide whether I'm more surprised about the hasty retreat or the obtrusive arrivals

"That was Amanda" he says with an amused smile as he lights a cigarette and grabs two more beers "She's a friend of a friend... I think she mentioned Mac?"

"Yeah, the married guy" I comment as I accept the offered drink "What's her relation with you? And, did she call you _Bumper_?" I ask, suddenly remembering that last bit 

"Yeah, she thinks she's so funny" he replies with a self-deprecating grin "She kind of ran me over a while back, you know, with her car... I don't think I'll ever get over the nickname"

"She ran you over with her car?" I repeat with a raised eyebrow, concluding that the new Xander surely has a funny way of making friends "Where I come from, we usually kill them when they do that" 

"Yeah, well... it wasn't really _her _car" he informs me, making it sound like it's enough of an excuse; I'm seriously starting to consider the Sunnydale deserter has some serious issues by now, but I'm amused enough not to mention it. 

"So what's with Glodielocks? He ran you over too?" I ask with some well-meant sarcasm "Is that how it works? Run over Xander, then crash at his flat?"

"Not really..." he chuckles, obviously appreciating my irony –which old Xander never did "That only works for well endowed women... Richie is Mac's son"

It's seven am by the time I leave the flat, via the sewers. We spent the whole night sitting in the small kitchen, drinking beers and smoking until the room was in a fog and we had to move to the living area to be able to see each other's faces. Then we kept drinking and talking until he had to leave for work. I have to admit it, I like the new and improved Xander. Because one thing I can assure now, he _is_ Xander, no matter what his name or his status is.

At first I couldn't even draw a parallel between the two Xanders –Sunnydale geeky kid and Los Angeles successful engineer. While the Scooby was a shy, tasteless, and moronic inept, this one is strong, self-sufficient and witty. _And sexy, lest we forget_. It took me quite a while to reconcile the two of them, and by now I can positively say I do not miss the old Xander in the least.

Then there is the issue of his _friends._ I guess he never got over that time when I crashed at his basement for a while... He explained briefly that Amanda and Richie, whenever they are in town, use to crash at his place, since he's single and has enough spare room. Which brings us to Mac; all night long, it was all Mac this, Mac that. The kid has a serious case of idol worship, and I really can't wait to meet Mac and see what he's made of. Which will be tonight at dinner, in case anyone wondered.

Oh yes, and remember I mentioned the bitch that killed Xander back in Sunnydale? Well, meet Amanda. Of course she didn't actually kill him, or rather she did, but the paramedics managed to bring him back on the way to the hospital. Then this Amanda woman went to the hospital, talked to him... she didn't have insurance, or something. The thing is, somehow the doctors forgot to let his family in on the fact that he was actually alive –or, I suspect, they were too drunk to process it- and instead of asking for money he asked her to take him with her.

You know, I knew the Harris kid's folks, and I tell you it isn't weird that he wanted to get away from them. His mum was a rather pleasant woman, when she was sober, but his old man... the bastard used to get so drunk he would wreak havoc in the house and beat up his wife and son. I could hear him from the basement at times, and believe me, if I hadn't had the chip I would have killed him. Maybe I should go find him and kill him now, if he's still around...

Anyway, here's where the Mac guy comes into the picture. He takes Xander in, as a special favor to Amanda, who has been his friend for like ever. He puts Xander through college, trains him in different kinds of combat, and loans him some money to rent a flat along with Richie, his son. Then the two become the best of friends, and stay roomies until Xander gets his mayor and moves to a bigger place, and Richie takes it to Europe to try some luck on motorcycle racing.

However, Xander seemed less than interested about telling me of his life, and more than anxious to question me about his long-lost friends'. The few details I got of his life I had to pull out of him by sheer force –just when did he develop such a good tolerance to alcohol, anyway?- and the rest of the night we spent talking about the members of the Scooby Gang, and how things were doing for them 

"Where were you all night, Spike?" Cordelia inquires, giving me a passing look as I walk into the hotel lobby "Brood boy was worried as hell, although he won't admit it..." she explains as she continues on her way to the kitchen, obviously intending for me to follow. So I do. 

Somehow, having spent the whole night with Xander makes me realize all the more how things have changed in the last ten years. I sort of take for granted the attention that is lavished on me nowadays, but after this unexpected run-in with the past I feel shamefully aware of the new order of things. I would feel embarrassed and furious knowing that this whole bunch of humans really care for me, if I hadn't stopped brooding over my lost life-threat days. Now, it just feels exhilarating. 

"I met an old friend, kinda lost track of time... was Angel really concerned?" _Yeah, I know, pathetic._ But I do care now, you know. Always did, really, but were too stupid to admit it. I won't say publicly now, but at least I acknowledge it to myself.

"Never came out of my lips" she grins, before opening the fridge and pulling out a milk carton and a blood bag "So, who was this friend? Must be hot if it took all night..." she chuckles while she puts the blood to warm and prepares twin bowls of cereal to go with the proper liquids

__

You have no idea. Oh, bloody hell! "I said that aloud, didn't I?"

"Either that, or my new mind-reading abilities just kicked in" she says with a raised eyebrow while she puts the milk in her bowl and hands me over the warmed mug of blood to do the same with mine "Maybe you can bring her over for Christmas..." she pauses for a second, considering "She's not the killing-the-little-humans type, right?" 

"I don't think so..." I reply absently, my mind going in two different directions. One, why did she assume it was a she? Do I _sound_ like I'm developing a crush? On Xander Harris? Two; is he, or is he not the people-killing type? I _must_ be developing a crush on him, because why else can I explain the fact that I forgot to ask about the _very obvious_ fight-to-the-death-with-sharp-objects issue? 

So I just let it go, and dedicate my day to more useful tasks. Like helping to translate this boring prophesy, which Angel insists on reviewing even though _everyone_ knows it's just a bluff. Ask any half-sober demon on the streets, and he'll tell you it's just an old wives tale, something to tell young demons around a fireplace. We've all heard it, but noooooo, Mr. Angel _has_ to look deeply into it. 

It's a prophesy about a human being obtaining the ultimate power, thus archiving world domination. _Yeah, right_. And to make it even more pointless, there is almost no data whatsoever about the fulfillment of this so-called prophesy. We have an hypothetical group of guys, and there is that word referring to them that the devil only knows what it meant in that long-dead dialect, and they gather, whatever for nobody knows, and then there is only one and he has the power to rule the world. 

We don't know _why_ they gather, _when_ they gather, _what they do_ when they gather, _how_ do they _become_ one... we don't have any bibliography on it other than this old –and stinky- book, rescued from a Toul'kar nest some days ago, and none of us has _ever_ heard of any of the wacky things it barely describes. There's obviously no ground for further investigation, but when did that stop the poof? Luckily the day goes by rather quickly, and my dinner appointment manages to get me out of the place soon enough.

Have you ever known me for feeling awkward? I didn't think so. But truth is, I do now. Xander is looking absolutely breath-taking tonight, clad all in black –not that I've seen him wear anything else so far. He's waiting for me at the bar of the restaurant we were supposed to meet at, and I tell you, the kid will probably never stop surprising me. It's the fanciest place I've been to for like, what, ever? And he fits in just perfectly, acknowledging me with a charming, non-Xanderish smile as I walk through the door. He's so gorgeous sitting there that I fail to notice the two men with him, until I'm close enough for introductions.

"I'm glad you could make it" he says as he stands up, the two men following suit "Spike, these are Mac, and Adam" 

Then I notice them. Two tall men, taller than the both of us, more or less equally well dressed, quite impressive in their own way. And the leaner one, the one with the nose, for some reason looks familiar. I'm distracted thinking about that, when the other man –Mac- suggests that we go to our table. I feel terribly underdressed when a receptionists asks for my coat, but the three men are obviously not bothered about my appearance. They're just finished ordering, when suddenly realization strikes. 

"You're a relative of Snookie Benjamin?" I ask the man with a prominent nose before I can stop myself

"He was my father" he replies at once, a somewhat embarrassed look on his face

"Snookie?" Mac asks with a chuckle, as Xander himself fights to keep laughter at bay "Where did you meet _Snookie_, Spike?" he asks merrily 

"At Woodstock. He had the best acid in the bloody place. I remember your mom, Linda... she _is_ you mom, right?" I ask, suddenly remembering how stoned Snookie was all the time, and wondering if he was born of the bastard's wife, or anyone else "I remember them alright... you knew Snookie because no matter what time of the day it was, he was either rolling a joint or smoking them... You look just like him, except for the wild hair and the hippie outfit"

"I... think it's enough about Snookie for now" Adam interrupts me, and for some reason that I just can't figure the other two men just start cracking up again

"No no, by all means Spike, do tell us more about _Snookie_" Xander insists politely, for some reason finding a deep pleasure in how fucked up this poor guy's old man was. It's not like it's _his_ fault...

"Put a sock in it, _Bumper_" Adam hisses, much to Xander's further amusement "I had an ancestor with wild hair and a wild mask too, in case you forget" he says in a tone that almost sounds threatening, if not for the all too sweet expression on his face. Suddenly Xander stops laughing at all, and I can see from where I'm sitting -next to Xander and across the table from the other two- that Mac elbows Adam in the ribs. Just then the waiter returns with the first dish, and everyone falls quiet. 

By the time dinner's over I can say without doubt that I like the git's friends. Mac is cultured and witty, and impresses as the kind of friend that would lay his life down for you. Adam I'm pretty sure is a genius, and that would explain his abusive cynicism in someone that young; but then again, try been Snookie's child and grow up an optimistic piece of sunshine. Sometimes during dinner he almost reminded me of myself, other than the fact that he wasn't part of the Scourge of Europe.

By the time we're though with dinner Mac invites me over to a blues bar, explaining a friend of them owns it, and even though I'm not much of a blues fan I'm having enough of a good time to join them. We split, and I get a ride with Xander while the other two drive in Mac's car, a rolling antique that looks as shiny as new. We arrive to the bar a couple of minutes after them, to find them sitting at the far end of the bar, drinking and laughing along with a much older man. 

"Snookie, uh? Elusive bastard... we always wondered who was the mother-fucker married to Amanda" the elderly man is chuckling as we approach the table and take the two conveniently saved chair

"Linda" Adam corrects him, looking notably less amused than the other two "It was the sixties for crying out loud! Would you two stop laughing at an old man's poor choices in life?"

"Nope, sorry Adam... it's too funny" Mac continues to laugh, earning himself a killer look from Adam before he turns to face Xander 

"Hey Gav, you got a spare bed for MacLeod?" he says casually "He will probably get himself locked out of his apartment tonight" 

"No, I won't" Mac replies seriously, although his eyes are bright with held-back laughter

"Oh, sounding self confident tonight" Adam teases him with an amused grin, and before I can understand what is going on Mac leans over and kisses the other man in the mouth, sliding his hand behind his head to hold him in place. My first reaction is shock, and after a minute or two that they continue kissing I start to debate with myself whether to feel embarrassed or aroused. Definitely the latte.

"Oh, get a room already!" the elderly man exclaims jokingly as he waves a waiter to the table, and sends him back on his way with a beer order

"And here I though it was your job to watch" Adam says when he finally pulls himself away from the other man's arms, readjusting himself in his seat as he downs the rest of his beer all at once, and casting a furtive look around the room that I could have not noticed, if both Mac and Xander hadn't decided for a similar examination of the bar patrons at the exact same time.

"Believe me, there are things I rather not watch" the older man replies, smiling openly when he recognizes the figure now approaching the table "Ah, the lovely Amanda... we were just talking about you a minute ago"

"Really?" she says with a charming tone, casually sitting herself on top of the bar owner's lap "What about?" 

"Oh... this, that... Woodstock" Mac replies with a concealed smile that soon turns into a chuckle as the woman's eyes grow wide with shock, shooting a threatening look at Adam, who just sighs in exasperation and downs another beer. Then I realize. Amanda, the annoying bitch from the night before, looks very much like Linda, only with dark short hair and less clothes. Much, much less. I'm about to comment about it, when Adam suddenly seems to realize I'm staring at her, and breaks the silence before I do;

"She's my sister" he clarifies, then an almost evil grin takes shape in his face "Not that I could be sure, Linda _did_ fuck around a lot... she was pretty screwed up, what with all that acid and whatnot" 

"Yeah, like _Snookie_ wasn't? At least _Linda_ wasn't sleeping with Brian Cullen!" she says indignant 

"You wished!" Adam chuckles before he notices several sets of eyes staring at him in disbelief "Oh, come on! He was hot!" he snaps, and turns to look at Mac who, unlike the rest of the present, is very red and absorbed by the pattern of the floor-tiles "Aw, I smell a story..." Adam whispers suggestively, leaning against the other man's side

"It's really late, we should be going..." Mac then says, abruptly standing up "It was a pleasure to meet you, Spike..." he offers, shaking my hand firmly, and then starts to walk away, only turning once to call for Adam who has remained behind "Are you coming, or you expect me to drag you?" 

"Mm, kinky" Adam grins, before standing as well and following the retreating man "I'll see you guys around..." are his only words before leaving the bar as well

I'm really absorbed by the interaction of the group, and the way everyone seems to be amused by bringing up the dirt from under their parents' carpet. And seriously, I had never figured Snookie for a poof. Of course, that would explain his son's choices in life. 

"I can't believe it!" Amanda's loud exclamation brings me back from my thoughts "Did _everyone_ get it going with Brian? I'm depressed..." she sighs, standing up and pulling the elderly man to his feet after her "Buy me a drink, Joe. Let the boys have their time..." she instructs rather than suggest, and with a wink at us she leaves the table.

"Well, this sure has been an interesting evening..." the man sighs "I guess I'll see you around... be good, Gav" 

"Will do, Joe" Xander replies affectionately, and then the man heads towards the bar with slow steps aided with a cane 


	3. 03

****

Chapter III

It's been three weeks already since I first met Xander in a deserted alley downtown. Three weeks spending most of my days at the hotel or at Dawn's, and all of my nights either at Xander's or at Joe's. For some reason I feel extremely comfortable around his new friends, and they seem to have gotten used to me as well. Of all, Adam and Mac are my personal favorites. They are so unlike one another, and yet they seem made for each other. I'm sure they are, and sometimes it just makes me jealous to see how deeply in love they are. 

Xander says they took _years_ to finally admit what they felt for each other, so long most of their friends had bets going on whether they were going to figure it out on their own or someone was going to have to point it out. And then one day during a Christmas party they both got drunk and ended up blowing each other in the men's room, much to Joe's surprise. Amanda had money on that particular outcome, and some of them are still blaming her for setting it up. However, the thing is they went home together that night, and never broke apart after that. They have been best friends, lovers and life-partners for over six years, and according to everyone –and I for one agree- they are going to stay like this forever.

I've even been invited to their place a couple of times; and I enjoyed it very much. With them, I can talk freely without anyone complaining about my strange sense of humor, and it's exhilarating to witness the extent of their complexity. Sometimes we sit at Joe's for hours, talking about history and art –what, you know who I was _before_ I was a vampire?-, and sometimes we get involved in rather heated debates on philosophy. It never ceases to surprise me how much these people have in their minds, and how not-stuffy they are. One minute they are acting like silly teenagers, and the next they are quoting Hesidorus. Sometimes they do both at once.

But of all, I must confess, I have a weakness for Xander. He's definitely grown out of his Sunnydale Zeppo days. I've been always proud of Willow and her achievements in life, but it was the least that was expected from her; she was always the smart one. But Xander? He was supposedly the goofy with no brains and no personality, and now I find him all in all a man, and a charming one at that, successful and self-confident as well. The fact that he's bloody eye candy is just another line to the tiger. 

So yeah, go figure, I have developed a crush on Xander Harris –Gavin Orwell now. I like to think I'm rather good at concealing it, but I'm sure at least Adam is aware of it by now. He keeps making jokes about Xander and I spending so much time together we look like husband and wife, and staring at me sometimes in amusement and sometimes in disbelief when he catches me eyeing Xander during one of Joe's performances, or in the few occasions we go dancing. He's one hell of a dancer too, who would have thought?

So today is Tuesday night. Tuesday night is pizza and movie night at Xander's, just the two of us and sporadically Richie, who just appears out of nowhere from time to time and makes himself at home at his loft. I rather like the kid, but sometimes the interaction between him and Xander make me wonder about the nature of their relationship and I end up feeling stupidly jealous. Then I remind myself that there are not indications that could lead me to believe Xander to be anything but absolutely heterosexual and I feel better, but only until I remember that means _I_ can't have him either. But I take what is offered, and satisfy myself with his friendship. 

I arrive at his place by 9 pm, the usual time, but for a change I find his apartment empty. I've had a key for the loft for over a week now, so I let myself in and find a note for me stuck on the refrigerator. _How thoughtful_. 

"Gone for extracurricular activities with Amanda. Back by 11. There's blood in the fridge. Make yourself at home"

That, of course, means Amanda has her eye on something highly valuable and they are going to acquire it through less than orthodox methods. Not that I have a problem with that... Actually, it still rather shocks me to think about Xander breaking in into a private collection and _stealing_ something. In black tight outfits. _Wait, don't go there_.

Erasing those thoughts from my mind, as much as possible at least, I pull a blood bag out of the fridge and proceed to warm it in the microwave. I have my own mug that I keep here, a gift from Xander, who is not particularly fond of the idea of drinking blood by mistake. _I wonder where he got that mug_. It reads 'sucker' in front, in big red capital letters. I rather not wonder at the implications, and stick to the explanation that I'm a blood sucker, but they don't print that on mugs. It's a funny mug nonetheless.

Once the blood is warm I start wondering what to do next, and instantly decide to snoop around his things while he's gone. _What? I'm a vampire! I'm evil_. After about half a second of consideration I decide to start by his bedroom. _Okay, I'm a lovesick vampire, so what?_

It's all so tidy in here. Looks like he doesn't even live here. Let's see... king-sized bed, _not something you want to think about_, two bedside tables with antique-looking lamps on them, closet, desk with laptop and lamp... nothing interesting on the surface, so I figure it's time for some real snooping. Bedside tables go first, been the closest thing at hand. Right side has a book, a couple of pens and highlighters and a handkerchief. _Used_. I'm starting to believe Xander is a really boring person to snoop on, when suddenly the state of the book, and the title, make me wonder.

The Queen of the Damned, by Anne Rice, in an almost shameful state of deterioration. When I pick it up and open it some pages almost fall loose to the floor, and as soon as I catch them I realize some other pages have the tips turned to the inside, and there are sentences and whole paragraphs highlighted. _Freak_. I'm already considering the fact rather disturbing even before I realize _what exactly_ is highlighted. Daniel and Armand parts. Now it's _highly disturbing_. I put it back in the drawer before closing it and heading for the other bedside table.

Okay, now _this_ tells a tale. Even the obsessive-compulsive display in the other bedside table couldn't have prepared me for this. Was it the pharmacist's that Amanda and he robbed last week? I'm trying to make up my mind whether to browse around the tons of different types of condoms and lubes carelessly spread around the drawer when suddenly something bright on the back calls my attention, and when I identify it as a pair of handcuffs I decide it's _too much information_ for my liking. I close the drawer before the stuff inside start feeding my imagination, and head for the desk.

Not much in these drawers other than some work-related papers, pens and pencils, lots of post-its in different colors and sizes, and some other office implements. There's a daily planner there too, but with a brief look I realize it's succinct enough not to be understood by anyone but himself. He's a thief, I guess that makes sense. The laptop computer is calling my name, figuratively speaking of course, but I know better than using a professional hacker's computer without permission; at least not if I want to go out of it in any better shape than dust. Next stop, the closet.

Note to self: if Angel kicks you out of the hotel, you could move into this closet. It's big enough for one to do the polka in it, besides other naughty things that I should not consider while still at Xander's home. I'm about to start browsing through the drawers on the far wall when suddenly an unexpected chuckle stops me on my tracks.

"In the closet, are we?" surely enough Xander's laugh-filled voice tells me

"I was just..." I try to lie, knowing full well that I cannot possibly come up with a convincing story in such short notice, even less as I turn around and realize he is leaning against the door of the closet wearing a tight black outfit "You didn't come all the way back here wearing those, did you?" I ask foolishly, knowing full well my eyes must be the size of watermelons by now and my voice is breaking just a bit.

"Not really" he smirks before he turns around and goes out of sight "Just trying to make an impression"

When I'm finally composed enough to come out of the closet, literally speaking, I realize he's in the shower. Insert naughty thoughts here. However, instead of dwelling on that I just go to the kitchen area and fix myself some more blood, spiked with some vodka from Xander's extensive bar. By the time he comes out of the bedroom, fully dressed, I am already watching a movie randomly selected, hoping to stop any possible confrontation regarding my nosiness.

"Odd movie choice" he smiles warmly as he sits next to me on the couch, a drink and a cigarette in his left hand and the abandoned box of the DVD in the other "This is over a decade old... didn't you watch it when it came out?"

"Wasn't much into socially accepted activities back then" I reply, inwardly thanking the PTB he is not bringing up the closet incident "Movie description seemed interesting"

"Oh, very much so" he says cryptically, and it isn't until the movie is quite advanced that I realize what the interesting thing about it is. Is the _Talented Mr. Ripley_ gay? Why didn't it say so in the box? And, why did Xander not warn me? Wait... why does Xander _have_ this movie in the first place. And, seriously, Armand and Daniel? What is that all about? Up at this point I really feel awkward in my own very undead skin, so I just keep quiet and watch the movie.

All in all it's a rather good one, if you take away the ending. By the time the titles start rolling, I'm deeply indignant.

"What the hell was _that_ all about?" I say annoyed "That must be the worst ending _ever_!"

"Yeah, I know" he sighs "I hate it myself... usually I let it play until the moment they are watching the sunset together, then turn it off... I mean, come on, that's just sensationalistic bullshit"

"Yeah, I know, I saw it coming from a mile away..." I agree, until suddenly it strikes. Is Xander cutting off movie endings to make them homoerotically romantic? _Are you gay, Xander?_

"As Christmas" he says, visibly fighting back a chuckle "I thought you would have figured that by the male porn in the underwear drawer" 

"I didn't get that far..." I confess as I wonder why I keep saying aloud things I never want people to know I'm thinking "What about Anya... and Cordelia..." I stammer. _This is just too good to be true_.

"Oh come on, Spike? The cheerleader and the slutty ex-demon? Tell me it doesn't just scream homo in denial" he chuckles, and then he turns to me and I must have a strange facial cast because he suddenly grows serious "Relax a bit Spike, I'm not going to jump you or anything..." he says as he stands up and walks away towards the kitchen. What was _that_ all about?

"Why the hell not?" I hiss as I follow him promptly, to find him pouring himself another scotch and leaning against the kitchen island. Then he just turns to look at me, and I have the idea he has the very same confused expression I must have had a second ago.

"Why the hell not, what?" he asks with a raised eyebrow

"Why the hell are you not gonna jump me?" I inquire, growing louder by the minute "What? Too old? Too dead? Too soddin' blond?" 

"There's no such thing as _too_ blond" he smiles, finally realizing what my outburst is all about and carefully setting his glass on the island before starting to slowly pace towards me "You're fucking perfect Spike" he whispers as he runs a hand softly against my cheek "Did you _want_ me to jump you?" 

"Hell, yeah!" I all but shout 

And then he's kissing me. Just like that, with no further preambles. Discrete yet confident hands eventually start roaming through my body, and when he gently pushes me against the kitchen island I can feel the beginnings of an erection resting against my thigh. My own cock jumps at that, and I push back against him. Then the kisses turn ravishing, and the hands become bolder and more avid to explore. Then;

"Oh my God!" a female cry interrupts us, and both of us jump apart and turn towards the elevator to find a very gleeful Amanda "I am awesome! Here, let me take a picture" she says excitedly, pulling a small digital camera from her purse "Come on, boys... pretend I'm not even here" she instructs.

I'm wondering what the hell is she doing, and what the hell is with the camera, and who the fuck she thinks we are to go at it with her and her camera there, when suddenly and against my wildest expectations Xander grabs me roughly by the waist and pulls me to him, capturing me in a searing kiss. I'm reveling in the multiple vocal talents of this new and improved Xander, and more than a little turned on by his exhibitionistic streak, when I notice a camera flash, and then another and another, and I'm about to pull away when Xander's hand finds my ass and squeezes, choosing the exact same moment to start thrusting his hips against me in earnest. Suddenly I don't give a damn about Amanda and her camera. Another flash, and we're getting so carried away already I barely register her presence.

"I'll let myself out now... unless..." she says optimistically a few minutes later, probably by the time she has no room for any more pictures, and certainly at the point I'm barely holding it together as our hips thrust wildly against each other, too desperate in mutual need to even attempt for anything more elaborate.

"Out" Xander commands her with a husky voice, his tongue barely abandoning my mouth for a second before continuing on its ravishing intrusion. Then his hand is inside of my pants, probing my opening, and with that I come helplessly, crying out in ecstasy. I barely register yet another flash before he follows me in his release.


	4. 04

****

Chapter IV

"Spike, what the hell are you doing? You should have had those translated an hour ago... I could have done it myself, or have Wesley do it, but you _insisted_ on doing it" Angel's annoying complaints interrupt me as I replay the events of the night in my head while I positively ignore the book in front of me

"You don't know the Tsaot dialect Angel... and Wesley sucks at it, he keeps mistaking words..." I reply in a similarly annoyed tone "I'll have it done by tomorrow, leave me alone"

"Tomorrow? Spike! You should have that _other_ prophesy translated by tomorrow!" he insists. Won't these people let a guy be lightheaded because of love for a minute? _Did I just say love?_

"I told you Angel, that prophesy is crap... demon equivalent of horror tales around a campfire. Human with the power, ruling the world... get over it" _Get over yourself_.

"I didn't ask you for a personal intake, I asked you for a translation! What the hell is wrong with you? You've been going out every night since you got here, not helping at all, and now you're moody too?" 

"I'm not moody! Bloody hell, I'll finish this in the time it takes you to do your hair. As for that stupid whim of yours, I suck at Akkadian! There! So just leave me alone and get someone else to do it!" I all but shout

I'm all set to get an equally aggressive response, and I can see he's absolutely up to meet my expectations, when suddenly Cordelia comes into the room and hits the back of my head with the tome I had been _not_ translating for the last couple of hours.

"Phone for you, Spike. Some Gavin guy, wouldn't say what he wanted but _insisted_ on talking to you..." 

I don't even wait for her to finish her sentence as I rush towards the front desk phone, hoping they will stay in the other room and let me take this call in peace. 

After a whole night of mind-blowing sex and cuddling in-between shags, I woke up in the morning to an empty apartment and a note in the refrigerator; 

"Gone to work. Call you later"

I've been, okay, _moody_ during the whole bloody day, wondering what the hell did that note _exactly_ mean and what ever is going to happen now. _I know, I sound pathetic_. But seriously, my mind is racing and my heart is stuck at my throat as I approach the phone. What now? Are we still friends? Are we more? Are we through? Hell if I'm going to let it show, though;

"Hey... what's up" I say casually, after a few calming breaths to perfect the I'm-really-cool-thank-you tone

Hey Spike he says cheerfully, which is probably good You forgot your cell phone here

"Yeah, I figured... was planning to pick it up later" I say nonchalantly, although careful not to sound hostile either

Okay, tell you what... I'll bring it over to you when I pick you up for dinner, say, at 7.30? Adam's paying...

"Adam's paying? Adam doesn't pay for the things _he_ consumes" I say in disbelief

I know, isn't that weird? he chuckles good-naturedly So, I'll see you then?

"Yeah. I'll wait outside" I agree, keeping my perfectly cool tone, although by now I'm pretty sure I won't know where we stand until tonight, and that just makes me nervous in a silly, potentially embarrassing way

Great. Bye, baby 

__

Did he just call me baby? The reply is stuck in my throat, and by the time I manage a weak pathetic 'Bye' the call is already over. Okay, what was _that_? Baby is good, right? How the hell should I know! Nobody has called me baby, well, _ever_! But it is supposedly good, right? _I don't know, you fool! What do you want it to be?_ I don't know!

"What the hell was that about?" Angel's voice interrupts me in my debate with myself "You're not dealing drugs, are you?" 

"What? All that hair gel has finally reached your brain!" I come back, angry but somewhat relieved to have someone to throw the frustration of my uncertainty at "I was... it's just..."

"I really don't care, Spike" he cuts me off before I start seriously babbling "Just make sure it isn't illegal, and translate those before you leave with your _new friends_" he says as he throws the books in front of me, and storms off. 

Only then I notice that I'm still holding the receiver of the phone, not quite against my ear but still stupidly close to my face. It is also then when I realize Cordelia is also in the room, standing at the doorway and staring at me in an inquisitive manner.

"Got anything original to add?" I ask her as I put the receiver back in the cradle and let myself fall on the chair

"I could say 'that is _my_ chair'" she says in an unexpectedly pleasant voice as she strolls towards the desk "But I kind of outgrew the childish quarrels, _unlike_ you and Angel" 

"Yeah, well..." I agree, we _were_ childish "What crawled up his ass and died?"

"Obviously not you" she chuckles

"Excuse me?" I snap, sounding positively girly-like and blushing instantly at the realization

"I _really_ don't like to think about my boss in this way, and he's all tall and dark and manly..." she starts babbling uncomfortably, but immediately recovers "Seriously, am I the only one here noticing Angel acting like a jealous girlfriend?"

"Get a grip, Chase" I hiss, trying to warn her not to go there; like that ever helps with Cordelia...

"All I'm saying is, he's all but pissing around you to mark his territory... and I'm the one who has to put up with him when you're gone" she says sincerely, sitting on the corner of the desk "He was just like that when you started, whatever you two did, with Faith. But then he saw you two together, saw how well you fit together, and eventually accepted it"

"Your point?" I ask in my trademark bad-ass tone, although I'm not really mad and definitely very curious, but can't let it show, can I?

"He's jealous of your new friends, okay?" she says, pausing until I nod for her to continue "But most of all, he's jealous because he _knows_ there is someone in that group of people that is _more_ than just a friend. Now, he thinks it's some girl, but I'm guessing it's this Gavin guy..." 

"Yeah, it's Gavin" I sigh in resignation, wondering how in hell she can tell "How can you tell?"

"I'm a woman, Spike. I can tell" she smiles warmly "The minute I mentioned his name, back there, your eyes brightened up like a Christmas tree and you all but ran to the phone. Not that office's phone, _this_ phone; away from us" 

"When exactly did you get all motherly on me?" I chuckle, although honestly I'm just trying to conceal the fact that the subject is quickly making me uncomfortable 

"The minute you got all teenage-in-love and Angel got all grumpy-old-creep" she answers with a smile, but immediately goes serious again "Spike, I may not be a vampire, but this whole situation is just screaming 'sire prerogatives conflict'. Like it happened with Faith, it will probably just go away if you introduce him, _us_, to this Gavin, and let him see that you're okay and that you respect his place in your life, un-life, by presenting your partner to him. If you don't, I'm afraid he'll just keep giving you tons of work to try and keep you from going out, and he'll keep on trying to convince himself that you're doing something wrong, something _evil_... something he can fight"

"When exactly did you get so wise, beauty queen?" I smile as I stand up, placing a kiss on her forehead as I grab the books and head back to the other office "I'm going to finish this and stick it up his broody ass by the time he comes back" 

Unfortunately, I think as I head back to my workspace, there's no way I can bring Xander to Angel. And that means I'll have to put up with his cranky moods until it either kills him, or me, or makes us kill each other. I really hope it's him...

"So, is Gavin picking you up?" she startles me, forcing me to retreat from my alternation of thoughts of naked Xander and of where exactly is our friendship going from now on. I really have to wonder if Cordelia grew wings, that she can snick up on me like that, but I can really use the company. It's not like I'm going to make myself feel any better with all this –you can say it- _brooding_, and she's really a good friend. Of all people, I really wish I could tell _her_ the truth.

"Yeah, he should be here any minute now" I concede as I throw the cigarette butt onto the dark street "We're going to dinner with some friends"

"They must be good friends that you don't sound upset about them been there on your date" she observes, sitting next to me on the stairs of the hotel

"They're nice people... you'd like them" I tell her; honestly, I think she would "Maybe some day you'll meet them..." 

"Maybe some day I will" she replies warmly, and then she just sits there with me, saying nothing else as we wait. 

Of all of them, who would have thought, she's the only one that would not ask questions. If any of the others were here, they would be just trying to push me for info, but she just sits here with me in companionable silence, waiting. I wouldn't let her sit here next to me if I thought she would try to approach my _date_ when he comes, but I know she won't. Even if she's dying to, she will wait until I tell her to. At 7 o'clock sharp, Xander's black Mercedes pulls up in front of the hotel.

"I think this is my cue to leave" Cordelia smiles as she stands up and places a kiss on my cheek "Have fun, Spike... don't let Angel screw this up for you" she advises as she walks up the stairs, not even glancing at the person in the car as she retreats, because she knows I won't have it

"Thanks... I won't" I reply, and then I walk long steps towards the car, where Xander is waiting with one of those beautiful, blinding smiles that have the strange power of melting me

"What? No kiss?" he says with a grin as I sit on the passenger seat, uncertain on how to greet him. And then I kiss him, and suddenly everything falls back into place, and I'm invaded by the certainty that it may all work out after all. 

"Ah, here they come... the blushing brides" Adam's deep voice greet us as we enter the fancy restaurant chosen for the occasion –whatever that is. If I weren't dead, I would certainly blush at that comment, seeing as half the heads in the place turn to look at us. Xander, for one, does not seem to care.

"My, do news fly around here" he says jovially as we sit down, and then directs a killer look at Amanda, who sits at the head of the table grinning widely

"Oh, they sure do..." Mac chuckles, patting Adam's arm in a affective manner 

"Speaking of which... did Amanda talk you into anything" Adam asks casually, although I for one can see a hidden intention that I cannot grasp behind the words "Say, did she tell you to pose for the pictures..."

"Don't be such a bad loser, Adam" the lady herself exclaims in mock indignation "I told you it was going to be in the kitchen, after drinks... just because I was there with a camera doesn't mean I manipulated the situation!" 

Then it strikes me "You made a bet on us?" I ask, realizing now why Adam is paying dinner when he doesn't even pay for his beer tab at Joe's

"Yeah, damn the day I let her talk me into it" he sighs "Although I was really sure it was going to be during a movie... Gav has simply one too many gay themed DVDs, it only made sense..."

"There was a gay themed DVD, actually" I confirm; as far as I'm concerned, nothing would have happened without it

"You didn't mention _that_" Adam glares accusingly at Amanda

"I didn't _know_ that! They weren't really communicative last night, you know Adam" she says defensively "All the same, I have graphic evidence as to the place of their first sexual encounter... I have the pictures right here, if you want to revise them"

"I think you may want to keep those in your purse" Mac hurries to say, stopping her hand with his as she tries to pull an envelope out of her handbag "This is a family restaurant, you don't want children and old people seeing those"

"Why? He's old people, and he sure watched them through and through" she says with an evil grin, pointing at Adam; ironically, it is Mac who blushes.

"All the same, you cannot prove that was the _first_ time" Adam concludes, his tone very business-like "I think _you_ should pay for dinner, Amanda. After all, you still have all that money from the bet on Mac and I... and don't play innocent with me, I _know_ what that one amounted to. Joe told me it was up for about a decade, and basically everyone we know was on it... "

"Damn!" Amanda sighs, obviously defeated "Someone should bring that confidentiality clause up to that man!"

And then, among laughter from all the men and annoyed complaints from her, I have the pleasure to see Adam once again gracefully avoiding to spend a single penny. You gotta admire the man.

After an abundant meal and cheerful chatter over coffee and brandy we head back to Mac's, where we start a new bottle of scotch while we make plans to go out. It's Saturday night after all, and the festive spirit has far outlasted dinner. We're all sitting companionably in Mac's loft when Richie arrives, takes a brief look around the room and sighs.

"Where?" is his only word, of which I can't really make sense until Amanda pulls the already infamous manila envelope from her purse and throws it at the kid, who browses through the content quickly and then lets the pictures drop on the coffee-table "Okay, too much information..." he says with wide eyes, and, _is he blushing?_ "So, are we going somewhere?" he asks smilingly, as he drops himself on the couch next to Amanda

"Trying to work it out, but we're one vamp and one Scot away from reaching any agreement" Amanda sighs dramatically, and then grins impishly "They're outnumbered though, so chances are we'll get our way..." 

"Don't we have a say in this?" I interrupt her, searching for Mac's support, but the man looks defeated already and shakes his head in resignation. After half an hour of insisting to simply go to Joe's, and with Richie's sudden arrival, we don't stand a chance to avoid going clubbing.

Don't get me wrong, I love clubs and I'm known for enjoying myself in them, but with Xander it's different. I definitely prefer a controlled environment where I can keep tabs on him. Not that I'm jealous –or that I have a reason or the right to be. It's just that Xander is too sexy, and I'm not quite fond of the idea of seeing him exposing himself to other people. _And in what parallel universe does that not mean jealousy?_ But what the hell, I'm definitely outnumbered and without Mac as backup I don't stand a chance.

"Okay, you win" I hiss, and before I can add the pertinent complaints all four of them have disappeared into the bedroom with happy exclamations, leaving Mac and I alone "Thanks for the support, mate" I tell him, pouring myself another drink

"Let's just say I have my priorities all set, and frustrated Adam is _definitely_ not one of them" he admits with a chuckle "right next to pissed Amanda, which is bad too, but more avoidable in the eventuality of its occurrence" 

Honest, I do sympathize with the poor bloke. I really like Adam, but I can only imagine what can it be like to be married to him for over seven years, and living with him as a partner even before that. I guess you just have to be Mac. 

"I'll have you know I was married sixty-eight times before Mac" Adam's voice intrudes in my reasoning. I must be thinking aloud _again_. I'm about to make a comment about how could Adam have possibly been married almost seventy times, and at his age, since he probably got together with Mac in his late teens, but when I turn around and see him I am rendered speechless. _The bastard_. Where had he been keeping _that_ body hidden?

He's wearing skin-tight leather pants, and a sleeveless black shirt, nothing so extraordinary, but in him it looks positively sinful. I think my jaw must have dropped, because now Adam is laughing. 

"Like it?" he says jovially, and then walks towards Mac and sits on his lap "Richie should be ready in a minute as well, but Gav and Amanda... they take forever. Maybe we should watch a movie, or play scrabble, or both..." he chuckles

"I still have to get changed, actually" Mac points out "Care to help me?" he says as he disentangles himself from his husband and heads towards the bedroom

"I am the man for the job" Adam replies with a grin, standing as well and following the already gone Mac "Can I undress you with my teeth?" I hear him saying as he enters the bedroom

"Too much information you guys!" comes Richie's complaint as he enters the living-room, shaking his head in an indignant way "Can you believe those two?" he tells me as he drops on the couch next to me "There are things you _definitely_ don't want to know about your father figure!" then, he realizes I'm staring at him "What?" 

Yes, he was _also_ keeping an astonishing body hidden from the world, and it's perfectly showing now, firm muscles clad in black jeans and a black T-shirt that is probably two sizes too small. However, that's not the reason I'm staring;

"Mate, you're wearing make up" I point out, wondering about the dark eyeliner and mascara

"Yeah, it's Gave's thing" he sighs "You have to be over four hundred years old to get away from it, not that I really care as long as it's not likely to embarrass me publicly" he shrugs, helping himself to the forgotten bottle of scotch and taking a swig "And since you're not over the exclusion age" he says jokingly "Your boy-toy asked me to send you in. He says you're, and I quote, 'awfully underdressed for the occasion'. End of quote"

Even after seeing Adam and Richie, turned from normal guys to sex-on-legs, nothing could have prepared me for Xander. He's just bloody perfect, or whatever is _beyond_ perfect. Breathtakingly beautiful in a black mesh shirt, black leather pants so tight that seem melted into him, platform boots and silver chains hanging from his neck, wrists and waist. And his face is even more astonishing than his incredibly sculptured body; black eyeliner and mascara, making his eyes seem enormous and his lashes incredibly long, and eye-shadow in different shades of gray expertly applied so that it looks amazing without been too much... and the lipstick, cherry flavored if my vampire senses are any good, and yet so subtle you can't hardly tell he's wearing any.

"Sit down" he whispers, or perhaps he's just talking normally but I'm so entranced I can barely hear him, and I obey without even thinking "Close your eyes" he commands, and I do, not understanding what is happening until I feel the kohl drawing a line in my upper eyelid. It's not like I've never worn make up before, and honestly I'm more interested in the way Xander is now straddling my lap, and shoving my hands away when I try to touch him.

"Hands off Spike, I'm trying to get a better angle" he insists, but I can sense the grin in his voice as he says it, and I could swear he's doing it on porpoise. But two can play at this game, and if he says hands off, hands off he'll get. Didn't mention other appendages though, so I just wait until he's done with the eye-liner to thrust my hips up and show him how much I appreciate his work.

"Naughty, are we?" he chuckles, meeting my thrust with an equally interested member before all too quickly pulling away "Later, lover..." he promises with a peck on my lips "Open your eyes now, I'm gonna put some eye-liner on your lower eyelids, then some mascara... I love your skin the way it is, but how you feel about some color on your lips?" he asks with a concentrated expression as he pulls my lower eyelid down to apply the eyeliner.

"Dru used to say there was no lipstick as the blood of the innocent..." I comment offhandedly, receiving a disgusted grimace from Amanda -_how long has she been there?_- but only an amused chuckle from Xander

"She _did_ have a great fashion sense, I have to admit it, but I'll think we'll pass on that one tip" he says, and then he leans closer "Maybe I'll let you have a taste of mine later, though..." he whispers, then immediately straightens up and proceeds to apply the mascara with all due care. _Did he just imply what I think he implied?_

One thing I discovered is that Adam and Xander act like two teenagers when they go clubbing. From the way they coerced Mac and I to go, to the way they basically dictated the way everyone should dress; from the way they chose the nightspot all on their own, to the way they are now dancing as if their lives depended on it, quite oblivious to anything surrounding them. 

So I sit across from Mac at the bar, sharing a couple of beers while we do our best to keep a conversation over the deafening music. He's staring at Adam in his abandoned frenzy, and all the while he's trying to explain why he agrees to come here even if he doesn't really fit in, but the love in his eyes as he follows the writhing figure of his lover around the dance floor says more than a thousand words. I am starting to hope Xander and I can someday share something as perfect as what they have.

Soon the conversation dies out due to the impossibility of actual communication in the noisy place, and we sit in companionably silence watching the people in the dance floor. Adam and Xander are still dancing, mingling with the other men and women, and in a far-off corner Richie is sweet-talking a long-legged, black dressed young woman who looks ready to escape at the first chance she gets. Amanda, in a tight and obscenely shot vinyl skirt, knee-long platform boots and a hardly-even-there top is throwing herself all over a man in a poet shirt and what looks like a skirt, but unlike Richie's _victim_ he looks nothing like inconvenienced. 

Men and women all around us seem to notice Mac, in his form-fitting silk shirt and black dressing trousers, and when I spare him a glance and realize he has let his hair hang long over his shoulders I can certainly relate. However, he has eyes for no-one but Adam, who now dances seductively with a young little thing, his eyes on Mac the whole time. After that, it's only a matter of instants before Mac leaves me to my beer and goes to his lover, who is enthusiastically beckoning him over.

I light a fag and order myself another drink, something with an interesting name that strikes my fancy. As I wait for my drink I look around the room, searching for my lover. It is another's hand, however, that snatch the fag from my lips.

"And here I thought the earth had swallowed you..." the female voice says amusedly, and it takes me barely a second to place it; I turn around swiftly to find the slayer regarding me with a cocky expression on her pretty face 

"What are you doing here, Faith?" I ask surprised. _Did I sound annoyed?_

"Could say I was here looking for you, but I gave that up about four hours ago when you wouldn't answer your cell-phone and I grew tired of Angel fretting about your never been around..." she grins, moving to take the stool next to me and obviously disregarding my rudeness "I was bored at the hotel, and couldn't go to Dawn's until the morning... what are _you_ doing here, anyway?" she asks unobtrusively; she knows I'll tell her anyway "Angel thinks you're dealing drugs" she chuckles

"Yeah, well... poof's got a low tolerance for rejection" 

"I hear you..." she sighs, taking a sip from the drink the bartender just delivered "Just don't give him such a hard time, he cares about you..." 

"You care about me and you don't go around pulling a grouchy-grandfather act" I point out, noticing that Xander is saying something to Adam as he and Mac walk back towards the bar

"Well, I'm awesome..." she exclaims cheerfully, making me wonder how much has she had to drink so far; however, I can't ponder on that too long since Mac and Adam are already here, reclaiming their seats "Who are the studs?" she asks interested

"I'm Adam, this is Mac... and he's taken" Adam says as a manner of introduction "But Spike here will probably be sleeping in cold sheets if he doesn't hit the dance-floor soon" the bastard adds before he returns his full attention to his husband, who is giving him a disapproving look

"Wow, Cordelia was right! You _are_ with someone!" she exclaims enthusiastically, sounding like the little girl she probably never got to be "Well, what are you waiting for? Go to him, we'll talk tomorrow..." she shoos me, waving her hands for emphasis in a _definitely_ drunken manner

So what can I do? I flash her a thankful grin and walk to where Xander is dancing and making eyes at me, barely having enough time to hear Amanda's unmistakable voice introducing herself to Faith with the catchy line of "So, am I the biggest fag-hag ever, or what?" 


	5. 05

It has been brought to my attention that Spike cannot, in fact, _appear_ in a photograph, therefore half of my story is based in crap... heh. As it turns out, I'm kind of the Anne Ricean vampire obsessive fan, and I didn't even _consider_ BtVS vamps don't project an image. So, here's my idea. Let's pretend they do, for the sake of my sanity, yes? Thanks your lot! Specially the ones who send praises and/or good good criticism that makes me see how green I still am, and how to try and fix that. : )

Chapter IV

"You may want to hide from the hurricane Angel..." Cordelia warns me as I enter the hotel in the morning, dragging me unceremoniously towards the kitchen and pushing me on a chair; from the lobby, I can hear the poof effectively passing on his way out, complaining about something like an old woman while Wesley's softer voice tries in vane to placate him

"Still mad at me, is he?" I ask, once I'm certain he's gone for good

"Oh, mad is a gross understatement..." she sighs as she pulls a blood bag from the fridge "Ate yet?"

"Not really" I reply; Xander was in a hurry in the morning, some kind of previous commitment he wouldn't tell me about, and I didn't feel like hanging around by myself at his place "Is Faith up yet?"

"That would be a big no; she barely made it back here an hour ago" she grins, rolling her eyes when I raise an eyebrow questioningly "I think Angel might be mad at her after last night... he kind of hoped she would bring you in by the hair, make you see reason... you were supposed to come to your senses and realize how absurd it is that you're trying to have a life and, _God forbid_, be happy..." she says in mock outrage "Maybe you should bring your Gavin over sometime, let Mr. OCD see that you're not doing anything so terrible, and then at least you'll have something to say for yourself when he stops making sense..."

"Right... was thinking more in the lines of pointy wooden objects, but can you blame the bloke?" I sigh, taking the mug she offers with a sympathetic smile

"Amusing coincidence" Wesley's tired voice comments from behind me as he enters the kitchen "I must confess I am finding that line of thought strangely appealing myself. But then again, I must remind myself there _are_ times I actually like Angel..." he explains, planting a soft kiss on his wife's lips before he starts fixing himself some coffee

"Men!" Cordelia chuckles, shaking her head in disbelief "It's male mentality at its best to think solutions reside in deadly phallic objects..."

"Interesting interpretation, dear" Wes laughs softly, taking a seat next to her "I do believe, however, that Spike here hasn't been cooperating either; you could, for one, at least _try_ to translate that prophesy Angel has taken such a liking to"

"I suck at Akkadian" I sigh in defeat "Told him that a couple times, but bloody stubborn ponce won't listen; what I _can_ decipher, I told him, and the rest... it's just old wives tales anyway"

"Well, I happen to have an acquaintance who can translate Akkadian..." he offers, scribbling an address in a paper napkin "You can drop it by this evening, and he will most likely have it done in the morning... at least that will be one less thing for Angel to fret about"

"Thanks, mate" I tell him, taking the napkin and slipping it into a pocket "I think I'll go try to catch up on my sleep now, take advantage of the funny occurrence of the sire _not_ being breathing on my neck"

"Sure thing, Spike" Cordelia laughs "For someone who doesn't _actually_ breathe, he's quite good at that..."

"Took him centuries to perfect it; the brooding came later..." I wink at her before I head upstairs to my room, and I don't _really_ want a giant octopus to dismember him, but wouldn't that be just wonderful?

--o--

I wake up right after sunset, when the pillow is unceremoniously snatched from under my head and used as a weapon to strike me across the face. I growl and open one eye to find an innocent-looking slayer towering over my bed, grinning like a bloody fool.

"You do that again and I'll snap your neck" I groan, rolling around to hide my face against the mattress, hoping she will just go away and let me sleep in peace

"Touchy, are we?" she chuckles, dropping on the bed next to me and forcing my face away from the sheets "Come on Spike, wake up!" she insists, lifting my eyelids forcefully with her fingers "I wanna go to Dawn's... Oz is playing tonight, and I promised we'd pick her up and drive her to the concert"

"She's not going to some concert, she's pregnant" I mumble, slapping her hands away from my face and trying to figure out a way of blocking her voice so I can go back to dream about Xander

"She's _pregnant_, not disabled!" she snorts, now jumping on the bed like an overactive kid "Come on, Spike, snap out of it! Don't make me throw a glass of holy water on your face..."

"Your bark is worse than your bite" I sigh in defeat, rolling to my back so I can look at her; _yep_, still grinning like a fool "You're not going away, are you?"

"Fat chance, Spike" she snorts "Come on, get dressed... we're gonna be late. I'll even fix your make-up for you"

"Fine! I'll get dressed" I snap, rolling out of bed "Just shut a up and get me some coffee"

"I have blood and, _ew_, Fuit Loops...?" she says uncertainly, pointing at the bowl resting on the bedside table next to a couple of papers "Cordy says she's out of Choco-crispies... she also sent those, she says to remember taking them to translate"

"I _hate_ Fruit Loops, Angel's always monopolizing the good stuff..." I sigh resignedly, barely glancing at the offending cereal as I grab my pants and start getting dressed "Get me coffee"

"We'll get it on the way, come on!"

--o--

It figures, I _still_ don't like Starbucks' coffee, but it's always better than the one Faith makes anyway. Dawnie still has that herbal tea obsession, and the word coffee is taken as a personal offence in her household, so I have to make do with the abhorrent beverage in a disposable cup. I have insisted vehemently in the past that a successful business doesn't necessarily derive from an actually good product, but I decided to stop using that argument that one time Angel agreed with me about it. _These_ days, pissing the ponce off has quite lost its luster.

As expected, the concert is pretty good, and Oz's band is really becoming popular of late so the place is quite crowded; it's still little leagues, but they are pretty much as far up as it gets in the underground scene, and every member of the band insists that they don't want to sell out and become commercial anyway. As it is, they feel happy and fulfilled, and with Oz's part-time job at the pet-store and Dawn's own job as a small-time designer for a punk clothing store they live quite elatedly.

After the concert the band members decide to go to a nearby bar they frequent to celebrate the impeccable performance, and of course every attempt on my part to convince Dawn to go back home and rest is futile, so we follow suit as expected. Faith is acting like she's high on amphetamines, talking nonstop and saying whatever comes to her mind, and she and Dawn have already spent most of the short walk to the bar cooing me for being so _cute_, so it doesn't really come as a surprise when she brings up the inevitable;

"He's just moody because Angel has being giving him hell for the last couple of weeks" Faith comments offhandedly as I hold the door of the bar open for them "He's just dying to know who Spike's new mystery lover is"

"Oh? Spike, are you seeing someone?" Dawn's eyes widen in curious anticipation "How comes you never told me! Shame on you!" she slaps my arm playfully "Who is she?" she inquires, waving for the waitress before she even sits at the chosen table

"Actually, it's a him" Faith smiles triumphant, sitting down next to me and sliding her hand into my coat pocket to fish for a cigarette "A _hot_ him, long dark hair, nice tight body... looks pretty good in leather"

"Oh, I didn't know you liked guys..." Dawn says, just as the waitress comes over to take our order "I would have set you up with Oz's cousin, Marty..." she comments in what appears to be a casual way, although I for one can see the wheels turning in the back of her head

"Dawn, Oz's cousin Marty is four feet tall and still holds on to his old Britney Spears CD's..." I mock-glare at her while Faith orders two beers and an orange soda

"Yeah, he's the short one of the family" Oz remarks in his usual monotone as he joins the three of us, taking the spare chair next to his girl "So Spike, you are seeing someone?"

"Yeah, name's Gavin" I concede, judging it mostly harmless if I stick to only mentioning him; as stupid as it makes me feel, I _really_ want to tell them about him "I'm meeting him later tonight, actually"

"Really?" Dawn asks enthusiastically, leaning closer to me conspiratorially "So come on, don't make me beg, what is he like...? Is he good in bed?"

"Bloody hell, bint!" I exclaim in pretend-outrage "I'm over a century your senior, what kind of question is _that?_"

"I don't know about the fuck..." Faith's chuckle interrupts my rightful indignation "But he's got an ass that just screams to be groped , and drives a Mercedes convertible that can't be more than a year old..." she informs succinctly; when I give her a questioning look, she just shrugs "You know Spike, I _am_ a girl; I may be tough, but I still like gossip..."

--o--

What with answering to dozens of obtrusive girly questions in between companionable drinks, and then driving the bint and Oz back home, I make it to Joe's quite near closing time. As usual at this late hour, there isn't many people left in there other than Amanda, Mac, Adam, Xander and, of course, the man the place itself is named after. Even before I walk through the door, vampire acute senses and all, I can hear Amanda's not-quite-sober voice rising above the soft murmur of the small crowd;

"I am _not_ drunk, I tell you" she is saying as I enter the bar "I haven't been drunk in _centuries_" she insists emphatically, glaring at Xander, who is in turn trying to hide his grin behind his beer mug

"He's not implying anything, Amanda" Mac assures her, a smile playing on his lips "But you _are_ a little less than sober, so I'm driving you home..." he decides, standing up and grabbing both his coat and hers

"Good idea" Adam agrees, pressing a quick kiss on his husband's lips while Amanda struggles to her feet "Don't take long, I'm kind of sleepy..." he calls after Mac, who rolls his eyes jovially as he walks past me, patting my shoulder in a friendly manner as he leads a pouting Amanda out of the bar

"Did I miss something?" I ask as I reach their table, pecking Xander on the lips before I occupy the chair Amanda just vacated

"Just Amanda being generally gleeful" he assures me with one of those blinding boyish smiles he still manages to pull off masterly

"It's a good thing Mac is driving her back to her hotel" Joe chuckles "She usually gets the strangest ideas when she's a little tipsy..."

"Don't we all?" Adam says from his boneless sprawl in his chair, one of those positions that would probably be unmanageable for somebody else but the bloke seems to find most comfortable "Last time I got drunk, I think my exact words were 'alright, bring my horse over, we should ride, the three of us'. Talk about bad drunkard ideas..." he snorts, probably a private joke that escapes me "I haven't gotten drunk since"

"Yeah, you may want to stick to that" Joe shakes his head, as Adam lifts his mug in a symbolic toast "I'll go close the cash register now..." the elderly man says, leaning heavily on his cane as he stands up

"Okay Joe, we'll drive you home when you close" Xander offers, waiting for the nod of agreement from the bar owner before turning to me "Do you have a cigarette, Spike? I ran out about an hour ago..."

"I think I have a couple left... Faith has the habit of helping herself to them" I explain as I search the pockets of my coat, and _why do I carry so much shit in them anyway?_ I have to take out a couple of randomly folded papers, my cell-phone, a few stray breath-mints and a black waterproof marker out before I even find them

"Thanks baby" Xander smiles, taking a cigarette and lighting it for me before taking one for himself and repeating the process "Is it healthy for the slayer to be smoking, anyway?" he asks with a raised eyebrow.

"Slayer metabolism or something" I come back, mimicking his expression "Is it healthy for _you_ to be doing it?"

"There's no pertinent answer to that one..." he chuckles, glancing at the contents of my pockets spread on top of the table with faint amusement and the obvious intent to change the subject "You should get a handbag. How _do_ you carry all that stuff in your pockets?"

"It's a talent" I conclude, deciding against mentioning the fact that _he_ carries a sword around under it; can't blame a bloke for wanting protection, what with all the things that go bump in the night, but it still seems like there is something else there. Not the moment to think about that, though, since Adam is shamelessly browsing through my things in what seems like scholarly interest.

"Where did you get this?" he eventually asks while he contemplates the pages in his hands; that damn prophesy I should have taken to translate. Angel is _definitely_ going to bitch about all day tomorrow, for that--

"Just some prophesy I need translated..." I shrug, not really sure how I _should_ explain it; it is weird enough that they all seemed to know from the start that I was a vampire, and were _okay_ with it.

"This is _not_ a prophesy" Adam looks up at me, his voice modulated as is he were talking to a particularly slow child "It is just some old middle-eastern myth, I don't see how this could hold any interest for you..." he says casually, throwing the small pile of crumpled papers back to me

"You can read Akkadian?" I ask in disbelief, although I can't say I _should_ be surprised; Adam was probably _born_ inside a library, with all the things he knows as if by first-hand experience. Sometimes, he can even discuss with me times _I_ actually lived through, and come up the victor nonetheless.

"No big deal, although I'm probably a bit rusty, since you don't seem to come across Akkadian interlocutors all that often in this day and age" he jokes "But I could translate it for you, if you want, that is..."

"Yeah, okay" I agree, giving him back the papers "Will save me some trouble... when can you have it ready?"

"We'll see" he shrugs casually "I don't suppose you have a pen?"

--o--

"Spike!" Angel's voice yells at me as I hurry through the threshold of the hotel around noon; it is funny how I am developing some sort of conditioned reflex to his voice, because suddenly I feel like running away, burning blanket over me seeming like a good idea after all "Enjoyed your all-night outing?"

"It was fine" I reply as nonchalantly as I can manage, trying to keep myself from bolting "Here, I had your little obsession translated for you..." I comment, passing it over; I still am shocked to remember Adam, just scribbling away at the same time as he read, and all the while complaining on how clay is much more readable than transcriptions thereof, and how it would be cheaper to go back to mud and clay instead of paper and ink

"Spike" the sire looks at me with a perplexed look on his face; he doesn't even sound angry "This is written on paper napkins..." he observes

"Well yeah, paper doesn't come cheap ponce, and it's not like you're paying me any..." I explain, leaving him alone before he actually catches up on the fact that I am making fun of him; in the kitchen, I find Faith and Cordelia, animatedly conversing over coffee--

"...and so we're going holiday-shopping this afternoon" the slayer is saying, glancing back at me with a big grin as I enter the room

"That's great" Cordelia tells her, smiling at me as she pulls a bowl from under the kitchen island "Choco-crispies. I hid the box from Angel, but with him being a vampire and all I suggest you to eat quickly..." she advises, pulling a blood bag from the fridge and handing it over to me as I sit on the stool next to Faith

"Thanks prom queen, good luck I have preternatural speed..." I say "So, is the slayer going to sit on Santa's lap today?"

"I just might" she chuckles "We're going shopping with Amanda"

"What?!" I all but shout, spilling some of the blood out of the bowl I wan pouring it into "What the hell do you mean, you're going shopping with Amanda?" _Amanda, who shows around pictures of me and Xander getting it on like they were pictures of her children_.

"Hey, Spike, chill" she laughs "She's really nice, and she offered to show me around L.A's trendiest shopping spots..."

"Cordelia could do that" I interrupt, hoping against hope to convince her _not_ to go with Amanda, because, well, she _is _Amanda

"I could, but Angel is working me to an inch of my life, and I can't take a day off... he can't even turn a computer on by himself, let alone operate it" she sighs, shaking her head in disapproval "And don't go around spilling blood in my kitchen; I _hate_ blood in the kitchen"

I'm about to say something about blood in the kitchen, and that time with the Xelc demon and the serving spoon in its huge middle eye, when the door is all but kicked off its hinges--

"Cordelia!" comes the annoying whine "You told me there were no Choco-cripies left!"


End file.
